


Strip

by Taim



Series: Fandomstuck Smut Series [4]
Category: Fandomstuck - Fandom
Genre: M/M, Pole Dancing, Pre-Slash, Tight Pants
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2016-07-21
Updated: 2016-07-21
Packaged: 2018-07-25 19:11:24
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 972
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7544494
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Taim/pseuds/Taim
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Homestuck has been keeping a dirty little secret. Supernatural catches him in the act. </p><p>Contains all of the lead up to very possessive and angry sex, but none of the act itself. May be added later on if there's enough interest.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Strip

**Author's Note:**

> Prompt by anonymous: "#35: “You heard me. Take. It. Off.”"

You always thought these classes were your best idea. They were fun and exotic and you thought Nat would never find out, or that he would at least be cool with it if he did. But keeping it a careful secret was half the fun. You and Heta called it your quality time. You always looked forward to the next class.

Though with the look in Nat’s eyes now, you’re not sure you’re going have legs after today, much less go to your next session on Thursday. 

Your name is Homestuck and your boyfriend caught you pole dancing.

—

The drive home is painfully silent, the quiet only broken by the sound of the road under the Impala’s tires. You didn’t have time to put your day clothes back on, sitting awkwardly in your skin-tight gym clothes. The normally comfortable one-piece clinging to your chest feels suffocating and your bare thighs (and part of an ass cheek where the shorts had ridden up) keep sticking to the leather seat. Nat still refuses to look at you, his face stony, cheeks dusted red and his eyes so dark… He’s pissed, he’s so pissed… And you’re so, so very dead…

You don’t move once he parks the car in the driveway of your shared home. He still doesn’t speak and you don’t dare fidget no matter how uncomfortable you are. You stay as still as a statue as he slowly lets out a breath and opens the car door. You remain motionless as he gets out and walks away, the door to the house hanging open when he doesn’t bother to close it behind him.

You get out after a few moments have passed and follow, shutting both the car door and then the house door so carefully. The building feels vacant, the silence so overwhelmingly heavy. You see him standing in the living room, leaning with one hand on the wall, his back to you. You pretend you don’t see his eyes in the reflection of a lamp, narrowed and glued to you. You feel like prey.

You ‘sneak’ around him carefully, heading for your bedroom to at least put something on over what you’re wearing now. If you can just maybe take his mind off that, so he doesn’t have to see what you were flaunting in front of another… What you looked like while dancing against Hetalia…

Something catches you by the shoulders and you squeak as you’re suddenly turned and slammed (albeit gently. Gently slammed?) into the wall, looking up at those dark eyes. God, when did he even get that close?

“Nat, I can expl-”

“Take it off.”

“Wha-” You’re cut off as his hand roughly cups your side and his nails scrape over your scars. You gasp hard, breath instantly shaky from just that light stimulation. Fuck, what was he–

He tugs at the deep, wide collar of your outfit with his other hand, mouth right beside your ear as he growls, “Strip.”

The order does terrible things to your insides and you barely think before you’re reaching to undo the hidden zipper and peeling the fabric off your chest and down to your hips. His eyes follow your hands with such an intensity that you feel like he’s about to eat you and not in the good way. But god, his expression is making heat rush down to pool between your legs.

You whimper softly as you ease the suit down your thighs, trying not to focus on the feeling of your fingertips so close to your wet heat. God, if this is going where you think it is…

But on that thought, he could also still be planning to punish you. Well, you don’t doubt that he’s going to punish you but at this rate it won’t be too bad. Maybe… Maybe you can hope for just an especially rough round? You always love those… But god, his face in the car… He looked so angry...

You manage to kick the last leg of your outfit off, quite a feat considering the very little space you have to work in. He hasn’t stepped back or anything, still just watching you. You don’t look up at him, shaking as you stand straight again, not knowing what to expect. You feel so exposed, left in nothing but a pair of lacy panties. They probably don’t help your situation at all.

“….”

You feel his eyes on the underwear and suddenly feel the need to mutter an explanation. “Seamless… They don’t show under the spandex…”

You gasp as he suddenly cups your cheek and gently tilts your head up to look at him again, his eyes softer than you expected. Wasn't he just seething...?

But as you’re looking, you realize he has the same exact expression. Not angry, but…

You bite your lip, sucking in a breath as you feel his hips press against yours, the denim of his jeans so deliciously rough against your skin. And that firmness pressing against it from the inside. Was he… Was he this turned on before…? Is that why he looked so pissed? Or maybe he wasn't made at all and just needed to get you home to tear you apart in the best way.

“I said strip. All of it, off right now.”

You swallow hard, head tilting back as he presses close. Fuck, he hasn’t even taken off his _shoes_ and you’re about to be naked. That… That shouldn’t be so hot…

“Nat-”

His hands go down to your hips, a finger slipping under the edge of the fabric, tugging gently and so very close to the edge of your sheathe where just the tip of your bulge has started to poke out. His voice makes you feel like you’re melting, especially with his next words.

“You heard me. Take. It. _Off.”_


End file.
